London Poem: Day 163

27 January

We are tiny arches
Bending for support;
The soft geometry budding,
But forgotten as work
Calls for more angles.
We work and work
Lifting each other up,
So as beauty slips out
Of our supple curves,
It goes unseen.
Never mind that
We see what is important –
The grand structure
Means nothing without
The purpose it serves.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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